An Unlikely Meeting
by JinxKid1
Summary: Years have passed since the surviving boys were rescued from the island. Some have families. All have moved on. But what happens when Ralph's young son comes home from school one day with news of a teacher that might be more than your ordinary substitute?


Ralph heard the front door of his house pull open then slam shut with a bang. A pattering of feet and the jangle-thump of a backpack being set down announced the return home from school of his 11-year-old son. The boy walked into the kitchen.

"Hi Dad," the usual greeting was given. Ralph looked up from the newspaper he was reading.

"Hello Simon," the fair-hard man greeted his son. Yes, Ralph had named his child in memory of his observant but unfortunate young friend from the island. At first this had seemed to Ralph a mistake. The boy was dark-haired (a trait he inherited from his mother) and clever. The resemblances were painful. However, he quickly got over the initial upset and came to realize that in these events he was finally coming to terms with what had happened on the island.

"How was school today?" Ralph asked, sipping his tea calmly.

"Awesome!" Simon replied enthusiastically, although he didn't even look up from the snack he was preparing for himself.

"Oh really?" Ralph enquired politely. "How so?"

"Okay, you know how Mrs. Kirkland is going to be gone for a while 'cause she's having her baby?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Well we met our substitute teacher today and he is so cool!" the son finally looked up and gave his father an excited look. Ralph smiled at Simon's bouncy cheerfulness and decided to keep the conversation going.

"And what, exactly, makes him so 'cool'?" Ralph humored the boy.

"He's really laid-back and lets us do pretty much whatever!" Simon was beginning to gesticulate frantically with enthusiasm.

"Do you actually learn anything?" Ralph smiled.

"Of course! When it's actually time for a lesson he gets everyone to listen. I don't know how he does it but he can make anyone pay attention to him whenever he pleases!" Simon paused for breath. "Oh, and he tells really awesome stories, just like you do, Dad!"

"Go on, tell me about these stories."

"They're all about adventure and survival and fights and exploration and hunting. I wish I had cool stories like that to tell!"

"Maybe someday you will," Ralph brought his cup up to his lips. "May I ask what this teacher's name is?" he took a sip of the hot liquid as his son answered.

"We call him Mr. Merridew," Simon shrugged.

Ralph spit his drink out all over his newspaper, then sat coughing and sputtering as he attempted to recover.

"Dad?" the boy gave Ralph an odd look.

The man took a lot longer to answer than seemed normal. He sat in a shocked silence as he watched the tea drip off the table and into his lap but made no move to wipe it up. Surely there were other Merridews in the country; certainly ones more fit for teaching. But the parts about Mr. Merridew's ability to make anyone listen and the types of stories he told near completely convinced Ralph of his identity.

"Nothing Simon. I'm fine," Ralph finally responded and began to clean up the spewed tea. Simon continued to stare uncertainly at his father. "Now, this may seem random, but what color hair does Mr. Merridew have?"

"Kind of reddish," Simon responded slowly.

Ralph gaped. Who else could it be? "I'm going to meet this man tomorrow," he announced.

"Sure, Dad. Whatever," Simon gave his father one last weird look before walking quickly out of the room.

Feeling nervousness build up in the pit of his stomach, Ralph mentally steeled himself in preparation of the next day. He both dreaded and looked forward to it. But mostly dreaded.

* * *

Here he was. He was going to do it. Ralph stood at the entrance of his son's school, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants and building up the courage to face a person that very well might be his childhood terrorizer. He honestly hadn't seen, or even searched out any of the boys from the island since he got home all those years ago. Not even his friends Samneric. Today was the day, he supposed.

School had just let out when Ralph got there. He found Simon and told him he could either wait in the car or walk home. Since it was a nice day, Simon decided to walk home. Good. That way Ralph didn't have to worry about how much time he took. He pushed through the double doors leading into the building.

After pausing briefly to ask which room he was looking for, Ralph began his trek down the hallway. His footsteps echoed menacingly back at him. He hadn't remembered the corridor being this long or dark. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, but also way too soon Ralph stopped in front of the closed door of his son's classroom.

A prolonged pause.

A deep breath.

Ralph knocked on the door.

"Come on in," a voice from inside the room offered. The voice flittered around Ralph's memory. It connected briefly with various different memories, but no matter how much it seemed to want to, it couldn't be placed anywhere with any degree of certainly. No matter. Ralph grasped the doorknob and pushed the door open. With a sharp intake of breath all doubts of the substitute teacher's identity washed away.

"Can I help you?" pale blue eyes, considerably softer and less angry than Ralph remembered looked up at him from a stack of papers.

"Ye—" Ralph's voice cracked. He realized his hands were shaking. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Yes, I trust you can. You see, you'll be teaching my son for the next month or so, and I thought I should see who you are," not a lie, but not the completely truth either.

"Of course," Jack Merridew's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. He stood and walked over to Ralph. Red head and freckled face took in the other man's features carefully. Ralph could tell Jack recognized him; he just hadn't realized where from yet. "I'm Mr. Merridew. Jack Merridew," he extended a hand.

"I know your name, Jack," Ralph said softly as he gently clasped the red-haired teacher's hand in his own.

In that instant Jack's eyes widened an almost cartoonish amount. He had placed the other in his memory.

"Ralph?" the name said so softly it was almost inaudible.

Ralph's heartbeat thrummed in his ears. It was all he could do to merely nod mutely in response.

"You can't be serious," Jack dropped down at a nearby desk with a thump. "Of all the people…"

The fair-haired man sat in the desk across from Jack. They watched each other in observant silence for some time, noticing all the differences and similarities in each other since they last met. Of both there were many.

After a length Jack broke the crushing silence. "So which one is yours? Which child, I mean," he started a casual conversation. Any onlookers would've seen nothing but two friends cooly discussing trivial topics. Never would it occur to anyone that these two young men in fact had a dark and rivalrous history.

"Simon. Simon is my son's name," Ralph replied.

"You're joking! You named your son after that old bat?" Jack gave a quick, sharp guffaw.

"You sod. What gives you the right to mock poor old Simon like that?" the other scowled, yet there was no venom behind his words. Time had long since dulled the pain of the events of the island. True, he still deeply regretted everything that had gone wrong, but he'd come to forgive Jack, and even Roger for what had happened. They had only been children. The feeling of power and the will of a crowd were hard to resist, Ralph knew firsthand only too well. Despite this, however, Jack's face fell immediately.

"You're right," he agreed quietly. "I have no right. His death was my fault after all."

"That's not entirely true," Ralph was quick to comfort Jack. He couldn't possibly imagine trying to get by in life with the amount of guilt and regret that accompanies the death of a child constantly weighing down on him. "Jack, you know as well as I do that both Piggy and I were very much present on that night. You can't possibly take all the blame."

"Why are you even trying to console me?" Jack's voice raised. What had began as a completely civil conversation had quickly slipped to painful events of the past. "I tried to kill you!" he continued bitterly.

"That was the power taking over. That wasn't you," even as Ralph spoke the words he realized they were true. "And I know you weren't innocent. You did some pretty damn stupid things. But holding a grudge this long would be painful. In a way, the forgiveness offers closure for both of us," he continued.

Jack watched him for a time. "Do you really mean that?" finally he asked quietly.

"I really do," Ralph answered just as softly.

"Well, you're a better person than I am," Jack's voice returned to normal. "You always have and always will be, but you know that, don't you?"

"Always have," Ralph smiled at the man who was once briefly his friend. In the next instant they were both grinning madly at each other. Their original comradery had been rekindled at last.

Both men stood. "You keep my son out of trouble, you hear?"

"Oh, I'm not sure. Knowing his father, that might not be possible," Jack replied jokingly.

Ralph shook his head happily. "You airhead. What do you say we get together sometime? Talk about stuff. Maybe track down some of the other boys."

"Sounds wonderful."

They said their goodbyes. Ralph was almost out the door of the room when a third figure suddenly barred in, almost knocking Ralph over in the process.

"Jack Merridew!" What's this I hear about you teaching my children?" a very familiar man demanded of the teacher. There was a pause, and the man spared Ralph a glance. "Sorry 'bout that, Ralph."

Silence. The trio stared at each other.

"Wait...Ralph?" the third man did a double take, then looked at Ralph uncertainly.

Ralph took a step closer. "Sam?" he couldn't believe it.

"Eric, actually, but yeah," Eric shrugged off the slip-up. "What are you doing here?"

"My son's in this class."

"So are both my son and daughter. Twins!" Eric beamed proudly.

"Wait, you mean to tell me that your kids have been in the same school, same grade for years now and neither of you dolts realized it?" Jack butt in to the conversation, cackling.

"It's hardly our fault," both fathers muttered.

"No, of course not," the redhead continued to chuckle. "Anyway, does Sam live around here too?"

"Nah, next town over. Couldn't take being grouped together as one all the time. You know, Samneric? Although I honestly can't see why he's complaining. His name always came first."

All three laughed.

"Now, back to business. How on earth did you manage to land a job teaching children?"

Yes, there was definitely some catching up to do, but closure was finally being found by the boys that survived that evil island all those years ago.


End file.
